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A de Carvalho May 2012
Above all reigns Zambi Kumbo.
Father of men, father of things, father of insects.
The non-created, the beginning, void of a beginning,
of all and any beginning.

The sacred is present in all instants and all instances.
All life is sacred and in it’s core are human beings.
The whole is anthropocentric and critical: human beings,
man, center of creation, spins the axis of good and evil.

I believe in the visible and the invisible,
in the interaction between these two worlds.
The natural and the supernatural are inseparable.  
There are other realities beyond the visible, man is not purely flesh,
there is spirit and heart and values beyond our eyes.

I summon the sun by tangu, which means time, present time,
time instance, favorable time, precise time.
To ask for the time, one should voice “what sun is it?"
The sun drifts on the ocean between life and death.
When the sun disappears in the horizon
it is a canoe carrying souls to the afterlife.

I sit on an ivory chair and wear bracelets of ivory and iron,
artistic woven fabric, certain hides set aside only for me,
an embroidered cap on my head, and a zebra tail on my shoulder.
Kneel, chuck dust above your head, and beg for my blessing.
I’ll stretch out my hands and wriggle my fingers to bless you.

I am Nagô-Yoruba! I am Okanran kandi abo!
Son of Xangô, son of Ketú, son of Egba.
E-e-e-o eya-o Great Mother, y-aa-o Black Beauty, womb of the wind,
creator of the wind that tangles the wild bush,
creator of the wind that tangles the fields,
creator of the thoughts in my head.
i awoke today
to a universe ended
all humanity had been wiped clean
life went on
Peter Roads Mar 2016
I see your star
you left it
burning for me
so that the dark end
of the street glows
like a broken candle
in the window
there is
no paper lantern lighthouse
above these grease proof paper rocks
so we watch
as shabbily folded galaxies burn
echoing the path of virtual pencil tips
tracing the factory cumulus
corroding our senses
a production line of carbon
across no man's sky
no woman's neither
for we do not own
the open wound of a petroleum aurora
drawn across this
life
canvas
candle wax
atmospheric balance
sevety eight nitrogen
nineteen oxygen
nought point nine argon
tracing nought point one
dripping
neglect
It is a gross domestic heartbeat
pulsing
a rain of elementary particles
pouring
into the veins
of an unnatural landscape

What reply can these resources make?
The dead metal
veins through stone
crack like bones
under drill bits
stolen
from the groaning ground
subsumed by grinding derricks
the sounds
******
black-gold-blood
from her veins
the sounds
unchanged
a squinting look
telling stories
but in no language we know
OF COURSE
we do not recognise
the wail of an angry child
in tantrum tornados
a crying coriolis deflecting
intention
from the eye
watching calmly
as those concrete scabs
deny air to our lungs
uprooted
ecosystems make room
not for trees
for high rise imprisonment
sea levels rising
they come
to wash mother clean
and where are we?
All we ever might have been
a blackhole
sunhalo
cigaretteburnt
on a broken candle windowsill
empty
where no one waits
For this distant beacon
has turned its face
from us
towards a lonely moon
now red with shame
we are welcome home
we are
I know
for here on this empty sill
a fragment of your still
glowing embers
lies
in the ashtray I stole
from the pub
the night we met
such tangible self interest
makes meaningful
what I say
what I do
though I cannot stop
the angry wail
of a child born
in this anthropocentric chaos
of well seeming form
can I simplify the message more?

We are not special

we owe the earth
our vigilance
not our scorn

If not us then who
will take personal responsibility
for soothing
our mother

before
the sun turns
to blackness
before
we are consumed
in our own hunger
doomed
to the decline we choose
which will it be
the decline of life
OR
the decline of energy use

our species can end
or it can soar

Choose wisely

Choose now

Or

choose nothing
evermore
Brent Goodman Apr 2016
Anthropical beams as fragile as glass,
So convinced they could take on the weight,
The weight of this already dying world
We've risen to the culmination of heaven,
To only fall back down to the bedrock of hell
Our eyes are focused on a wasted purpose,
Our mind corrupted by this green paper
You think you're so ******* important,
You're the broken species, the waste of life
Our answers are only limited,
Inside this amaurotic anthropocentric society
We think we can fix the mess,
We're just guided by a worthless dream
We abandon all of the rest,
To dwell within this pathetic excuse for reality
These human beams have shattered,
The weight has killed them of all senses
From this great fall, we have become pathetic,
We are now the lowest of ****, we are ****
Our answers are only limited,
Inside this amaurotic anthropocentric society
We think we can fix the mess,
We're just guided by a worthless dream
We abandon all of the rest,
To dwell within this pathetic excuse for reality
Ears too deafen to hear the calls,
Eyes too clouded to see the signs
We've fallen so low to the base of the scale,
Still thinking we're at the very top
We never had a chance, we're done,
We've become the lowest of ****
We are ****
Dre G Mar 2018
break down your snow
flake ******* obsidian,
what did you lace my ****
with that forced me to join
the yakuza in service of
the rising sun?
what kind of anthropocentric
jehovas witness temple
taught you to count?
to envision the navel of
gravity? you say there is no
tectonic plate beneath us,
and yet we stand on the
trench of your lies.
Trout Sep 2019
I am a console of good despair
And I only want to have you
No matter what the statutes
Bring me a bottle to capture air
But the room is full of sidewalks
I would rather be deadbolt

I wouldn’t ever remorse you just
To be satisfied with my life
I am not so deep in pride
That’s the way I like to think it but
There are all these things that I want
That I have never begot

Ten cigarettes in the atmosphere
There’s a lightbulb in the ballroom
The fixture sprays its values
Focus the times, nothing’s sacred here
Ridiculous, all these steps
It takes to get to world war
Culture is something unique to man
Sometimes I wish we’d go back
Anthropocentric anthrax
Now *** is something you have to learn
There’s no more animal instincts
You better know your manners

There’s this one person I want to see
Everything that I ever do
But forget some things in front of you

The fear, fear, the total fear

— The End —